You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
Liander steps carefully over the uneven ground of the tent, the dampness seeping through his boots as he lowers himself onto the offered cushion. He straightens his posture and meets the old hag’s gaze with a mixture of curiosity and respect. "My name... My name is Liander Cortez, I am 19 years old and one of the Farfolk. I left my home seeking to understand the wider world, to learn from it, and to prepare myself to become the best soldier I can be for my people. If there is something you know, or something you need, I am here to listen and to help, for that is why I’ve come. To learn, to grow, and to fulfil my duty."
